


Probability Impossible

by DesertDraggon



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Asher is trans, Fear of loss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Unrequited Crush, Vex!Asher, discontinued, does this count as enemies to lovers?, rampant destruction of vex, two old men argue a lot, untreatable illness, yes they bone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 03:17:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17973446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertDraggon/pseuds/DesertDraggon
Summary: Forced to work together, Asher Mir and Osiris travel the Infinite Forest in search for the answers to cure Asher's affliction. Osiris finds himself pining for the irritating scribe, much to his weary heart's dismay at a love that would inevitably be cut short.





	1. In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so I had been working on this for half a year or so before my inspiration dried up and I stopped being able to fit together the plotpoints or decide where I wanted to go with this anymore. SO I've decided to just throw it up here, unedited, for folks to enjoy, and put an end to my guilt about not being able to continue it. 
> 
> I hope this helps get the ball rolling, and help gain attention and interest to this absolutely fantastic ship I dreamt up. I really want people to think more about Asher and Osiris. Two men who canonically have a lot of similar interests and personality traits, who also canonically have a distain towards one another! I love Asher and Osiris as characters a whole lot, they're both unique takes on 'asshole' characters and display a lot of richness behind their facade. The two together is just???? MWAH! Manufique! (i butchered that) 
> 
> But anyways, let me get out of your way, please enjoy this not so brief traipse into a crackship I decided to take seriously.

It was always nice to come out into the real world, to sit and breath the warm air, to feel the sun on his skin. In the Infinite Forest the environment was stale, steady. You could still feel the sun, the sand, and smell the air, but it wasn't the same. It was never the same. Perhaps, Osiris pondered, it was because the Vex simply didn't perceive those things the same way. Maybe, to an Exo or a Ghost, it was normal. But, ah there were other variables there as well…

“Hey, our favorite Guardian is here!” The warlock was stirred from his thoughts as Sagira spotted their new friend in the distance, the hunter’s pink armor glimmering in the sunlight. How on any planet Takkāḷi succeeded any sort of stealth mission in such garish armor was beyond him… but if he got the job done, well, who could complain. 

Another seemed to accompany the hunter, their shrill voice heard before they were seen. The two appeared to be arguing, and as they neared, Osiris could see that Takkāḷi was practically dragging their companion along. On approach, he could see the tension in Takkāḷi's jaw, and finally place who accompanied him.

“Asher Mir? Takkāḷi what is this? You asked to meet… I didn't expect this to be a troubling affair.” The warlock inquired, arching an eyebrow in the hunter’s direction. The guardian looked guilty, at first before settling back into a serious stature.

“I… had planned to simply spend some time with you if my original plan to kidnap him didn't work but-” he glanced at the huffy Awoken who rubbed at his wrist with a Vex arm… oh. “This was why I called. He, needs your help, and I’m done letting him stew in his own self pity.”

“I am NOT 'stewing in my own self pity’ you dreg! I have merely accepted the course of events to come, and I am done wasting my time and getting no results!” Chided the gensym scribe, looking outright offended at Takkāḷi's accusation. 

“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed today geeze…” Sagira mumbled, floating between the two. “So what’s going on exactly? Do you really have a Vex arm or am I seeing things?” 

“Yes.” Asher huffed- “I really have a Vex arm. It is slowly consuming me and I will soon be dead. That, is why this forsaken hunter has dragged me away from my base on Io, to ask for help. Apparently I’m not doing enough to find a cure! Bah!” Even with his arms crossed, pouting, he explained his situation. The warlock motioned for Takkāḷi to speak with him alone. Whatever Osiris was expecting, Takkāḷi bringing along another problem for him to solve wasn't on the list.

“I thought, maybe if you two could work together on this, you could make a breakthrough to save his life, if not cure him completely.” the hunter sighed, his eyes wavering in a silent plea. “I've grown close to him, and I don't want to lose a friend like this, not when we haven't explored all possibilities yet.”

“You know very well that I have my hands full enough, dealing with any threats the Vex compose. I have no time to join a study party.” Osiris stressed, his brows set deep. Takkāḷi deflated, only for a moment, before the warlock could feel a wave of the hunter's searing light hit him.

“I’m not asking you to babysit him I’m asking you to work with him and give him access to the Forest.” debated the hunter, his accent becoming rougher and harder to understand. When upset it was difficult for the half-fallen to keep his voice steady. “He needs your help, and I feel like you need to learn how to act like a person again.”

That statement hit Osiris harder than he felt it should have. Which admittedly, probably meant he was right. Offended, he scoffed and turned away, glaring off onto the horizon. 

“I spend time with you, Takkāḷi, because I enjoy your company. How is that not acting like a person?” 

“You spend time with me because I initiate it, unless you have a problem, to which you have Ikora calling me in to clean up your messes. That's not how friends work Osiris.” 

“I don't need friends.”

“Good. Then you don't need me hanging around to hold your hand. Make nice, and do something for someone else without it needing to be about the universe ending.” Takkāḷi turned to leave, visibly hurt by Osiris’ stubborn behavior. He stopped to say his goodbyes to Asher and Sagira, earning a pained but warm smile from the scribe before he walked away.

While stewing in his own annoyance at the whole ordeal, Osiris overheard Sagira’s excited yammering. “I mean, it’s kind of cool, not gonna lie.” the Ghost bobbed, ogling the Vex limb. Asher cringed.

“It is not 'cool’ at all. It had destroyed my ghost and is destroying me. There is nothing cool about it.” 

“Your ghost? What happened… what happened to your ghost?” Sagira asked cautiously. Asher seemed to quiet, stilling for a moment in contemplation before summoning the shell into the palm of his hand. Sagira gasped sympathetically as the little ghost sat motionless, it’s pure red eye burning continuously. 

“She… was destroyed as I will be.” Asher solumnly spoke, stoking his thumb against the ghost’s shell. “She’s gotten worse, hasn't spoken to me or anyone in months.” Osiris found himself transfixed on the infected ghost, something pulling in his chest when a cursed thought arose… what if that was Sagira? It was… it was Sagira at one point. She was taken, she could have been damned to being that vacant and corrupted thing.

Osiris swallowed and chalked up the lump in his throat to the dry desert heat, unable to stomach thinking on that subject any longer. His gaze flicked up to study Asher’s saddened face, the anger soothed from his brows. The scribe’s eyes betrayed guilt as he held his ghost for Sagira to study. 

With a deep breath, the warlock returned to face the scribe. Asher’s attention was now on him, having settled his vexed ghost away, safe. Osiris offered his hand, deciding that he might as well… try. Asher gave him a deadpan look, cocking a brow just slightly at the gesture. 

“I know who you are, Osiris who was exiled and all that nonsense.”

“Which is why I didn't introduce myself. Though I’ve only heard of you fleetingly, from our mutual friend Ikora. A shame, someone with such a passion for studying the Vex should've caught my attention sooner.” 

“Perhaps if you didn't get banished and spent all your time lost in a Vex simulation you’d know more of what’s going on in the real world.” 

“Wow!” Sagira exclaimed, turning to Osiris. “He’s feisty!” 

Osiris frowned, his lips forming a tight line as he retracted his offered hand. He brushed off the statement, studying the irascible scribe. Asher had an ozonic air about him that clashed with Osiris’ own. The electricity danced off him as freely as his awoken light beneath his skin, tainted, but ever present. However, it was not quite as strong as it should be, for Asher was frayed, in every sense of the word.

“My seclusion with the Vex may very well be what you needed for a cure, if you'd rather not consult my expertise, feel free to continue on your chosen path. Just remember who brought you here.” Osiris rebutted, making stride back towards the entrance of the Infinite Forest and freeing himself from the guardian’s erratic aura. 

“Yeah-” Sagira chimed in, “I mean, Takkāḷi's really nice, and if he thinks you belong here then maybe he’s right.” 

“Besides, it's better than sitting around waiting to become a hive minded robot.” She fluttered in a teasing manner before returning to Osiris’s side. Now it was Asher’s turn to scrutinize the other warlock. His resolve softened for but a moment before be harrumphed and followed Osiris and Sagira.

“Fine! Fine. We’ll see what your study of the Vex forest can do to further my research. I doubt it'll shed any light on the subject, but I wouldn't be a scientist if I didn't try.” 

“You wouldn't be a scientist if you were dead either! So honestly, it's a win-win.”

“Sagira…”

“What?”

^v^v^v^

“First, there’s a simulation we need to access… a few of them actually.” Osiris thought out loud, to snap an awe struck scribe out of his stupor. Asher looked like a child in candyland, his eyes sparkling as they drank in every detail. The endless emptiness, the spires, the constructs. It was a whole new glistening world for him to delve into. 

“This is… beautiful.” It was nothing like the ever shifting hellscape reality of the Pyramidion. Those clambering caverns were dark, jaded. Here it felt so open, so vast, so elegant. Floating islands wavered into existence before them through an expanse of opalescent skies, adorned with golden statues of dormant Vex minds and endlessly spilling colorful sands. 

“I know right? Sagira bopped into the conversation. “I bet this places beats out your Pyramidion without a doubt.” Asher nodded before taking note of the spires that dotted the horizon, fading in and out of existence. Great glass pillars shimmered in the artificial light, gates that opened as they approached. 

“I would certainly say so, yes. Granted my exploration of the Pyramidion was cut short…” he raised his Vex arm slightly. “But this place by far exceeds my expectations, and we've only just arrived.”

“Are you done? You may pick your jaw up off the floor, we have places to be.” Osiris cut in, impatient to get started. The sooner he helped Asher, or at least exhausted their resources, the sooner he could get back to monitoring Vex and his plans for the Forest.

“And where exactly are we going?” Questioned the scribe, on the defensive once again and miffed that his sightseeing was interrupted. 

“There are a few terminals where we can access full databanks of information the Vex have gathered.” Osiris began, splitting reflections off from himself as he spoke. “I can have my reflections find the safest routes, and see if anything further is required to gain access.”

“Well, anything further than me of course!” Chimed the ghost, twirling in the air. Osiris rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course.” he muttered to her kindly.

Asher seemed transfixed by one of the reflections, it waiting there patiently since it noticed the scribe’s gaze. 

“A reflection, you called them?” He pondered out loud, to which Osiris nodded.

“Yes. Manifestations of myself with the use of my light.”

“And you can create them this easily?” He reached to touch the golden flickering form with his flesh hand. It felt warm almost, and surprisingly solid, in a non-newtonian way. Ever shifting, but there. Real.

“There’s little more to it than thinking it into existence.” Osiris began to explain. “You pull your light from your body, and with the help of the Forest, you can form it into an extension of yourself.” 

“And how does it work? Do the reflections operate like a hive mind, or are they simply Frames that follow orders?”

“Actually, I’m my own being, in a way, but my consciousness is shared with Osiris.” The warlock’s reflection answered instead, causing Asher to jump. Sagira giggled as the scribe tried to pretend he didn't just get scared shitless by the reflection talking. 

“That’s correct. They’re simply a way to… multitask.” The older warlock confirmed. 

“Teach me how.” Asher looked back at Osiris, with a light in his eyes that caught him off guard. The luminance beneath the scribe’s skin wavered erratically, it was… entrancing.

“I…” Osiris caught himself trailing off, “We have more pressing matters to attend to. May I remind you, you're on a clock.” he attempted to divert the subject. They couldn't afford distractions with the need to make ground on locating a viable database to start their search with.

“I’m well aware of my fleeting existence, which is why I feel being able to replicate myself would be an advantage, should I… weaken. Sufficiently.” Asher didn't seem to want to admit that he was fragile, that he was falling apart. Who would? He had little time left before the Vex constructs took him over completely. He would die before then, even. 

Osiris reluctantly let go of his resolve. Asher was right. Having projections of the scientist could help monumentally in a sticky situation, or to even branch out alongside Osiris’s own reflections. They could do calculations then and there instead of waiting for news to come back. 

“Alright.” The warlock sighed. “Then, shall we begin?”

The first few tries went terribly, given that Asher was having the damnedest time focusing his light, due partly to his current state. Every time he tried to create a projection, his arm would send spikes of pain through his body. All he was able to manage before doubling over in agony, was a warble of Arc light.

“You need to collect yourself Asher. One who’s intuned with Arc should know this.” Osiris mentored, crossing his arms in pity. The Awoken snapped his deadly gaze to Osiris, sneering angrily.

“Do you not think I'm trying? It’s hard to concentrate with my body revolting against me!” He spat before returning to the task. He took a deep breath, deeper than one should be able to inhale. Asher’s aura was getting stronger, becoming calm, becoming electrified. The effect only lasted until just the twitch of a brow, the clench of his jaw, and suddenly he was collapsing to the ground.

Asher, regaining some semblance of himself, punched the sandy ground in frustration.Osiris approached to help haul Asher up, lifting the scribe but earning but a slap on the wrist. “Unhand me I can stand on my own.” Asher pulled away from the warlock, who frowned at the quakes in the erratic scientist’s body. 

“Perhaps we should move on-”

“Perhaps I need a moment to collect myself before we try again.” Asher snapped, glaring at the older warlock. He wasn't going down without a fight, but still…

“No, Asher you need to stop.” Sagira whizzed in. “Your vitals aren't in a good place right now, you could kill yourself if you keep trying.”

“Perhaps you should rest, and we'll think of solutions to the problems this Vex arm is creating. It’s obvious it’s blocking your light… somehow.” Osiris agreed, trying not to take such heavy offense to the way the man was treating him. He… felt like he was looking in a mirror. The warlock wondered if maybe, he too, was this frustrating to work with. 

“Sagira, if you could take us to that simulation you created, I think some respite there would help.” To that the ghost perked, excited to show off her own creation within the forest.

“Oh you bet I can!”

A pathway came to be, a large triangular portal opening in front of them. While passing through the gateway, the ground became of soft grass, some small shrubs sprouting in the corners. As they passed through the final gateway, they came out onto a field on Earth. The sun sparkled through trees that spread for miles, the wind gently moving the grass. A modern cottage sat in the middle of the field, just before it dipped down into the expanse of a lake.

“You created this?” Asher asked, his voice betraying how tired he had become. 

“Yep! Osiris can get kind of boring, so occasionally I’ll just play with the code. This is a fancier version of where we used to live back on Earth!” The ghost wizzed through the air, beaming with pride. Osiris couldn't help but smile at her showboating.

“Remarkable…” he heard Asher whisper, as they passed through the threshold of the home. It was sleek and stylish, like the Vanguard apartments in The Tower. The area was comfortable and inviting, the walls decorated with 'souvenirs’ Sagira had gathered from their adventures. Asher passed through, admiring the details before settling down in a large armchair that was part of an entertainment area. He let out a shuddered sigh, relaxing slightly. 

“If I may-” Osiris asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of Asher. “Could I examine your arm?” The scribe narrowed his bright eyes, the soft fluorite glow was piercing. 

“I suppose, yes. You may.” Asher reluctantly nodded, removing his satchel before beginning to undo his coat. Osiris turned his gaze elsewhere, allowing the Awoken to undress in peace. 

“Get this over with already, I’m not particularly fond of being prodded.” Came the irate signal from the other that he was ready. Osiris returned to study the shirtless scribe. 

His arm was… unsightly. The entire left arm, up past his shoulder and even down his ribs, was Vex. Asher’s skin seemed to be slowly transforming into metal, the blue horribly distorted and inflamed where the two converged. Grooves started carving their way into his flesh, where the seams in a Vex chassis might be. Osiris gently lifted the Vex arm up to get a better look at how it all connected. 

“Is touching alright?” He asked, to which he was met with silence. “Asher?”

“Yes- yes. But be careful, the skin is extremely sensitive.” Asher confirmed, uneasily, not fond of being under scrutiny like this. Osiris glanced up at his face, noticing the scribe was violently looking anywhere but him.

Lightly, Osiris felt the seams of skin to metal, the nearly smooth difference unsettling. Asher gasped at the continued touch, his form flinching away. The warlock continued his observation much more cautiously. 

“It’s… intriguing how your body seems to be changing at a molecular level… it appears as if it’s natural for this transformation to take place.” Mused Osiris, letting go of Asher’s parasitic arm and pulling away. “I’m not sure how that would stop your ability to control the light however.” To that Asher’s demure turned to storm, his jaw clenching.

“Well I’m sorry I can't use the light like I used to without the radiolaria in my veins literally boiling me alive!” He huffed, standing up fast enough to nearly hit Osiris in the face. He grabbed his garments and stomped off through the cabin. 

Osiris collected himself, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Sagira whirred beside him with a white noise sigh.

“He’s stubborn…” she stated plainly. “And he’s got a lot of issues. Reminds me of someone.” that earned a chuckle from Osiris.

“Stubborn is the least of it. But that isn't the problem. The problem is, I’m not sure if we’ll be able to help him at all, let alone beyond ridding him of the Vex infection.” The warlock shared his concerns.

“With how intensely it’s affecting his use of light, it may very well be that he will lose it entirely, even should we cure him.” 

“That… I don't know. Wouldn't he prefer to be alive than with light?” Sagira cocked her phalanges in thought.

“We can assume yes, but what if he outright refuses to continue this search because he doesn't like the thought of losing his light?”

“I don't care.” the scribe’s sudden return startled the two.

“And why’s that?” Osiris pried.

“Because we already lost our light, Osiris. We survived without it for months. You may have been unaffected in here… somehow. But we weren't.” Osiris found himself humbled by the Awoken. 

“That's…”

“Losing the light is not my concern in the slightest. Losing myself isn't even on the top of the list. If anything, I need to know how to fix this to… to help others who are unfortunate enough to face the same fate.” Asher was solemn. Unlike Osiris was lead to believe, Asher had only accepted his own state, but he hadn't fully given up.

“A noble cause…” the warlock said lamely, the picture in his mind of who Asher was, crumbling. Something in him flickered. He ignored it.

“I’m going to attempt creating a reflection again.” The scribe announced confidently, striding outside onto a deck overlooking the simulated lakeside. Osiris stared dumbfounded at the door for a moment, startled out of his thoughts when Asher peered around the doorway, brows knit. 

“Well? Are you joining me or not? I don't have all the time in the world.”

^V^V^

Trying again, Asher ended up with several botched attempts at forming his light, but they were getting stronger. Osiris was widely impressed with the determination the scribe exhibited. Even though it sent the scientist shuddering in pain, every form of arc light was becoming more and more resemblant of its source. 

“Confound it! You will exist, and you will exist now!” Asher ground out, pushing through the pain and ripping the light from his body with massive effort. Sagira was about to step in again when the scribe let out a final shout, gasping for breath and nearly falling to his knees. 

Before him stood an almost perfect mimicry of himself, the electric being slow in realizing itself. Blue eyes looked at blue hands and back out to it’s maker. Asher had done it, he had finally made a reflection. The scribe oogled his creation, an extension of himself as he should be with two hands that were his own. It pained him to see, knowing he would likely never look that way again. 

“Well done, it’s rudimentary and far from perfect, but you’ve achieved it.” Osiris huffed in disbelief. The warlock didn't think it would be possible for Asher to pull off such a stunt, but lo and behold, the scribe humbled him yet again. Pleasantly so.

“I… do not want to do that again.” Asher heaved, his shoulders shaking from exertion, hanging his head in show of how tired it had made him, when really he couldn't bear looking at himself like this. 

“I should be enough should we have an emergency.” Spoke the reflection monotonously, voice echoing and laced with static. “For the time being, I’ll accompany one of your own reflections, Osiris.” It nodded, blinking off to explore the forest untethered. 

“Good riddance. I don't think I could stand hearing my own voice like that.” The joke took Osiris and Sagira by surprise, the older warlock holding back a snort. The ghost on the other hand, was rolling with laughter.

“Ha! You are an absolute delight, you know that?” she complimented the scribe, nudging him playfully.

“That’s certainly not what others would say. Now, enough dilly-dallying. I've wasted too much of our time.” Asher switched back to irrate, but somehow his eyes read apologetic. Osiris smiled and nodded, before guiding them out of Sagira’s cozy simulation and back into the Forest. 

^V^V^V^


	2. Back to Square One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reflections aren't as easy to use as one would think!

“AH! Blast this reflection, does it ever stop! How do you handle more than one of these feeding you information!?” Asher wailed, clutching his head. The data from his reflection was bombarding him constantly, and all attempts at managing the sights, the feelings, the thoughts have been coming undone. He could only handle so much at once, the over stimulation of his mind had been slowly diving him mad… well, angrier than usual. 

Osiris predicted this problem would arise, but was impressed with how long it took the scribe before he caved. They had been traveling through the forest for hours, and had even investigated two conflux they believed would give them some information. He should have instructed him already, but it was difficult for him to explain. The projections he made weren’t a science, they were a feeling, and Asher was a man of science, not feelings.

“Deep breaths…” the warlock spoke, cupping the sides of Asher’s head and soothing the noise with his light. The scribe flinched back at first, glaring down at the man, but the stream of light eased him into stubborn relaxation. He inhaled, shuddering, eye twitching in pain. “Now relax, let my light seep into your reflection.” Osiris spoke, pushing with his light. One of Asher’s eyes opened scrutinously.

“Why?”

“Because I have difficulty explaining how my reflections can switch off their connections until information needs to be shared.” Osiris admitted, rather annoyed. He didn’t want to ever admit he was bad at anything, but Asher was hard to satiate. 

“Fine.” the scribe agreed, looking smug at the admission of fault, much to Osiris’ chagrin. He shook his head with a sigh and shut his eyes to focus on connecting with Asher’s reflection instead. Osiris felt stretched thin with the amount of active reflections he had in play already, on top of reaching out to his companion’s. It strained him to add just enough light to the arc being so it could disconnect from Asher, and it terrified him that Asher’s mind felt like dipping his hands into radiolarian fluid. Once the deed was done, he tore himself from the Awoken, gasping in pain and clutching his hands to his chest. 

“Osiris?!” Sagira, who had been fawning over the interaction between the two, was concerned with her guardian’s reaction. She sensed the pain he had been in now, and was whirling around the warlock, conducting a quick scan of his vitals. 

“I’m fine, Sagira.”

“You act as if touching me burned you, what is the meaning of this?” the scribe sneered, insulted by the reaction.

“You act as if you aren’t aware of how painful your mind is to delve into.” Osiris snapped back. Asher looked even more agast than he did before.

“Why would you meddle in my mind? I gave no explicit permissions to do so, only to connect with my construct!” he screamed, pointing a finger in vindication at the elder warlock. Osiris growled in frustration.

“Of course I slipped into your mind, how else am I to connect with a literal extension of it!?” he countered. “I was trying to help, and ended up stung as if you had the core of a Vex! Forgive me for being offended you hadn’t warned me first!”

“I wasn’t aware that it would affect you in such a manner! Perhaps inquire one, before infiltrating their deepest thoughts and you won’t get unpleasant and unexpected side effects!” Asher spat, pacing in another direction. There was nowhere for him to go here, and it frustrated him further, made him feel vulnerable. 

“Traveler above, you two really need to work on your communication skills.” Sagira rushed after the scribe, leaving Osiris to stew by himself.

“Why are you following me?” Asher shooed the ghost away as he strode away. She scoffed before buzzing in front of his face.

“Hold on there mister, quit your shit for a moment. Ok?” Sagira got closer, looking like she would stab him in the eye to get him to stop. With a huff he obeyed. “Osiris didn’t mean it, ok? He was just caught by surprise.”

“He should’ve asked first!”

“And you should have asked him to clarify! You’re both horrible at talking to other people! I get it, I’ve had to live with it for, like, ever! But one of you has to start the conversation if you’re going to get anywhere. He’s been trying, but you need to try too.” she continued, her electronic voice soft and coercive. 

“I…” Asher opened his mouth to retaliate before closing it again, crossing his arm and looking away in thought. “You’re-” he sighed heavily. “You’re right. Yes. Communication with a fireteam is both ways.” he spoke as if he was quoting an instructor’s advice. His lumescent eyes leveled with Sagira. “I’ve never been good at fireteams…”

“Hey it’s ok, neither has he. You’re not the only one who’s not good at people things. Sometimes it’s easier to shove your nose in your work and ignore everyone else, but sometimes you need to reach out and connect with others to get that work done faster.” Sagira advised wisely. She knew his type, she knew Osiris needed this talk too, which is why she made sure he could hear her every word through their mental link. Asher’s gaze flicked to Osiris in the distance before nodding reluctantly.

“We, should continue…” 

The scribe made his way back to Osiris, thinking deeply over Sagira’s words. Osiris mulled over them as well, his anger having waned and being replaced with annoyance. He hated walking on the eggshells of emotion, hated having to play nice with others when he could get more work done solo. 

In the end, he was in the wrong. Osiris needed to stop acting childish and work with the damn scribe, not against him. Asher neared and he turned to apologize. He should’ve been worried about how faint he felt as he faced the approaching scribe, but as he opened his mouth to speak, he stumbled, both verbally and physically. Sagira gasped and Asher rushed forwards to catch the elder warlock as he collapsed from exhaustion. 

“Osiris? Osiris!” Asher fell to his knees trying to support the dead weight of the Human. The strain sent pain through his Vexed shoulder, forcing him to shift Osiris over to his still fleshed arm. “Sagira, what’s happened to him?” he asked the ghost in alarm, looking uncharacteristically concerned. He pushed any doubts that attempted to plague him that this was caused by his mind’s residue within Osiris to the back burner, but still… 

Sagira was already running another scan on the warlock, her blue eye flickering in worry.“It’s alright, he’s just passed out. He’s been expending himself and his light way more than he’s used to. He did this after the fight with Panoptes too…” she explained almost relieved, hovering closer to her guardian, acting none so different than a mother hen. 

“We need to get him out of here. Let me just…” she slipped into a pocket within Osiris’ robes briefly, coming back out with the cubic keys the warlock fiddled with to open doors through the forest. The ghost held them with her light, turning the dice until finally a triangular gate opened in a flash of blue before the trio. 

“Ok, this should be Osiris’ personal simulation. Probably.” Sagira shrugged her points, zooming to return the key. Asher nodded, struggling to lift the unconscious warlock just a bit. He settled on slipping under the Human, threading and arm between his legs to perform a shoddy fireman’s carry. Asher stumbled towards the portal in a hurry, letting the blinding light take him and his companion wherever it so chose.

Once the effects disappeared, he found they were inside a vast circular room, lit only by a thin strip of a window and hundreds of candles. The smell of old books and incense hit him like a wall, along with a comforting warmth that was the equivalent of those fleeting mornings where everything was just fine. The scribe almost tripped on a stack of hardbound books, cursing under his breath as he dragged himself over to a daybed that was amidst even more stacks of books, piled all haphazard. Asher tried his best to place Osiris gently, but ended up flopping the man onto the bed gracelessly. He groaned after, straightening his back with a few good pops. 

“Well at least I got the right place.” Sagira hummed. “I mean, why wouldn't I, but still. Those things are finicky.”

“What are they, if I may ask?” Asher slipped his hand into Osiris’ pocket to pull them out, no subtly at all. Sagira sniggered at the casualty with which Asher sat on the bed beside Osiris with no regard for the man’s personal space.

“They're something we forged together, a key basically.” She floated around Asher’s hands, causing the scribe to offer an open palm to the ghost out of habit. He faltered when she noticed, but visibly relaxed as she took him up on the offer and plopped right down with a happy chirp. “They're like… a combination lock, but it’s all Vex code. So, it tricks the forest into thinking we're Vex and it allows us free and quick passage through anywhere! Well, almost anywhere. Even Vex have a caste system.” She continued explaining from the comfort of Asher’s pale blue hand.

“I see… how did you go about acquiring the technology for them?” 

“We killed a lot of Vex, took apart their brains and stuff. You know, the usual!” 

“The usual…” he frowned, she didn't help explain much, but the cubes were interesting nonetheless. He held them up to examine the seals, the gold shimmering in the candlelight.

“I hope he’s not out too long, but then again, he hardly ever gets any real rest.” Sagira bemoaned, fluttering out of Asher’s hand to be closer to her guardian. 

“You two were wrought up about me pushing myself too far, and yet you let him do this to himself.” The scribe turned, eyeing the sleeping warlock. 

“I don't let him get like this! I’ve tried to talk sense into him, but he does things anyways. It’s like herding a cat. He does what he wants, be it for better or worse.” She turned to glare at the scribe “And you're exactly the same, so don't you start.” She berated him. Asher was taken aback, and found himself unable to stay the guilt bubbling inside him. 

“You're right but you don't have to say it.” He grumbled. Sagira’s words hurt, knocking something loose that he had nailed away. “I know I’m just as stupidly self destructive. So did Asterion…” 

“Is that her name?” Sagira asked after a moment of quiet. Asher nodded, eyes downcast. The ghost drooped, floating gingerly back to the scribe. “How did it all happen?” 

Asher took a moment to debate with himself on how to proceed. It had been too long and it was becoming harder to keep his emotions in check. “Brakion had captured me and was in the process of studying me rather physically when he took notice of her presence.” He started. “He had already ripped off my arm and drenched me in radiolarian fluid when she tried to heal me so I could escape.”

“She was too slow to react, and he ripped her away from me.” Asher inhaled sharply, he could feel himself unraveling at the horrifying recollection. “I could but lie there paralyzed in pain and fear, as he took her apart and put her back together in his image.” 

“That’s…” Sagira had no words to describe, her light wavered as if she was heartbroken. 

“She didn't deserve this…” Asher whispered, his throat tight, trying to suppress the inevitable. “She just had my back. She was always watching out for me, no matter how utterly pretentious I got, she took care of me.” his eyes blurred, and he looked up to try and force them away, carefully schooling his breathing.

“I would always yell at her, and she would yell back. Oh the screaming fits we had, they were so… menial. But no matter how angry I made her, she would put me back on my feet.” He choked, and the dam broke, tears spilling from cyan eyes.

“Asher…” Sagira sighed sympathetically, moving closer to the scribe.

“You remind me of her… it makes my heart ache, how much I miss her.” He confessed, anxiously wiping his tears away with the cuff of his sleeve, trying to clean himself up. “I apologize for not keeping my composure.”

“Hey, no, you don't have to apologize for that. It’s fine, it’s ok.” Sagira comforted, bumping up against his cheek before huffing a little laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Asher pulled away, a little hurt. Sagira shook her frame.

“Nothing terrible don't worry, you and Osiris are just… so similar, yet so different.” She reassured, her tone was fond. “You both have a lot of issues, but you handle it differently. You just get smangry at everything-”

“Excuse me, 'smangry’?”

“Yeah, sad-mad-angry! And Osiris just kinda clams up and stress works himself to death.” Sagira continued, not even phased by Asher’s dirty look about her word usage.

“One, never use that mishmash of a word again, the term is disgruntled. Two, I too find myself working turmously to… ignore my feelings.” He admitted, his brow knit. “Feelings aren't easy and have only left me broken. I’d rather stick my other arm in Vex mind fluid, than let myself actually feel the looming cloud of depression and heartbreak that haunts my soul.”

“What is with you guys and getting so fucked up about feelings?”

“They hurt in a way that one’s ghost can't heal, I suppose.” Asher supplied.

“Wow that's… deep?” Sagira blinked at the scribe, letting out a sigh in pity. 

“I…” the scribe started but Osiris breaking out into a snore behind him cut him off. Sagira snorted, flying over to coo at her guardian’s ugly sleeping face. Asher simply stood and straightened his jacket, annoyed by the interruption. He watched Sagira, barely listening, with the words on his tongue and the memories that came with them getting dragged back into their lockbox. 

Asher fled to busy himself, reminded horribly that Sagira wasn't his ghost to dump on, and that this all would mean nothing in the end. Sagira looked back at the Awoken to try and pick up the conversation where they left off, but he was already invested in the rows of books the simulation offered. Her gaze lingered before she just accepted that their moment was over, and she settled down next to Osiris’ slumbering form.

^V^V^V^

Osiris’ eyes fluttered open, slowly blinking away the sleep. He groaned and shifted, attempting to sit up. Seeing clearly now, he found himself in his simulated library with no recollection of even getting here. The last thing he could remember was beginning to apologize to-

“Asher!” He cursed softly under his breath, looking around frantically for the scribe.

“What?” Asher popped up on the other side of the circular room, from behind a stack of books. “Oh good, you're finally awake.” He noted blandly before returning to the novel he was currently invested in. Osiris opened his mouth to question why, and how, they were here when Sagira nearly ran smack into his face.

“Oh thank goodness! I was so worried, but I’m glad you got some rest, you're an idiot for not watching yourself you know!” She rambled on, worrying over everything.

“I passed out… of course...” The warlock wiped a hand down his face, still groggy from his nap. “How long have I been unconscious?”

“Nine hours and twenty-three minutes.” Asher called from his side, not bothering to look up this time. Osiris paled, standing up and scrambling to snag his headdress.

“Nine hours!? How could you let me sleep that long? Do you have any idea what the Vex could do in one minute, let alone nine hours!” He made to charge for the triangular doorway but suddenly Asher was on him, his Vex arm’s grip on his own much stronger than he would assume and stopping Osiris in his tracks.

“You were straining yourself far too much. I suggested waking you sooner, but Sagira opposed the idea.” Asher explained, he didn't seem in much of a rush. “For the time being I’ve gone through quite a bit of your collection here. These are all written by you with a few exceptions, correct?” The scribe seemed genuinely interested, opening the volume to flip through its yellowed pages. 

“I- yes they are. They're my findings throughout my time here in the Forest, and a few before it. Some are predictions of things to come, others just records of events past.” He explained, cooling his heels as he awaited the scribe’s continued inquiry. With a quick study he found that the book Asher held contained Osiris' experiences with many of the Minds he’d come across.

“Now, this is simply an idea-”

“But it’s a really good idea, well, objectively. But good!” Sagira chimed in, having discussed this with Asher already. Asher glared at her flatly before continuing.

“But! I theorize that simulating the Genesis Mind, Brakion; would be a viable course of action in obtaining its methods of experimentation.” 

“The radiolarian fluid in the Pyramidions lake was vastly different from any iterations of it I had found, even of that of which I’ve analysed from the Centaur, Nessus.” He relayed, peaking Osiris’ interest.

“So you believe gaining access to Brakion’s brain, will reveal what secrets it held concerning the radiolaria that it used to infect you.” The warlock stated, scratching his beard in thought. “That just might work…”

“Of course I… would in no manner enjoy seeing Brakion again.” Asher stipulated. “I would prefer we attempt our research elsewhere, first.”

“I can understand that, but recreating Brakion may just be our best bet. If so, I will need your help in defeating the Genesis Mind.” Osiris placed a hand on Asher’s shoulder, eyeing him seriously.

“I’m aware. I wouldn't leave anyone to fight him alone…” he trailed off, his fingers turning white with how tightly he held the book in his hand. Osiris slid his hand down to hold Asher’s arm in reassurance. The scribe glanced at the hand before quickly averting his gaze elsewhere. 

“Alright, then we have a plan should our resources end up dry.” Osiris nodded. “We should get moving.” He took the book from Asher, gingerly placing it back on a shelf.

“Yes, I heard from my reflection that currently the Well of Sands was unguarded. A reflection of yours claimed it lead to a rather extensive Vex networking hub.” Asher filled Osiris in on what their reflections have found. The Human cocked his head, eyes shifting.

“The Well… are you sure?” He asked, concerns entirely valid. The last time he visited the Well of Sands, a Mind with the chassis of a Harpy stood guard there, and was not very pleased to have him as a visitor. He still had scars from the encounter… but if it had abandoned it’s post? He could finally discover just what exactly it had been protecting.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Asher snarked. “Would I waste time informing you if I was not? No! Now let's get moving.” Osiris took a moment to gather himself, taking a deep breath before leading the scientist on towards their objective.


	3. Sand and Traumatic Memories!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we find Asher is more deeply infected than we thought. Feelings get a little more complicated for those who refuse to feel them.

The Well of Sand was a monumental pit, spiralling ever downwards into pitch darkness and guarded by high walls with angular arches. An ocean of iridescent sand poured into the pit, the cascades of copper and sapphire grains mimicking waterfalls. The only way down was either falling straight through and being shot out at an excruciatingly painful speed, or finessing one’s way along the walls themselves, slippery with the endless bombardment of sand. Osiris, preferred the latter, to say the least.

Vex units littered the place, their endless red gaze keeping watch. Waiting. They weren't going to be an issue, Osiris and Asher could blaze through them in just moments, the problem stood with the possibility that the intel could be wrong… that Voxvosis, the Auspicious Mind still lurks below.

Nevertheless, they persisted. Asher held the rear, using his fusion rifle to take out any hobgoblins before they got a chance to even notice Osiris’ trace crystal’s piercing whine. The coppery metal of the goblins bodies melted away at the laser’s light, a few exploding and injuring their own in the blast. Once the closer targets were eliminated, the warlock took cover as he switched to a pulse. 

While Osiris was busy picking off Vex on the opposite side of the well, Asher noticed a train of minotaurs converging on the elder warlock’s position. Focusing his light and taking careful aim, he fired off a round that was infused with void. Immediately the vex’s shields burst, causing the others to shut down as well, making easy targets for the scribe. 

Once the minotaurs were down, Asher moved to Osiris’ position, assisting his assault on the remaining goblin guards. Osiris inhaled and gathered solar light in his hand, forming a grenade which he tossed in a near perfect arc over the pit. It struck true enough and eviscerated the remaining bots. 

“The way should be clear.” One of Osiris’ reflections flickered into their reality. “I’ve done another scan of the area and found nothing of immediate concern. I’ll continue my search elsewhere for now.” Beside the shimmer of gold was Asher’s own mirage, cyan form sparking out of existence to follow the false Osiris. 

“They seem to be getting along.” Sagira commented, reappearing now that the main battle was over with and it was safe for her to be out and about. Asher quirked a brow at the statement as he holstered his weapons, preparing for descension into the well. Sagira caught his look and shrugged, giggling like she knew something he didn't.

“Right…” the scribe trailed, looking to Osiris' who was scanning the area for an entrance. “How are we getting down?” 

“There should be- ah! There. Follow me.” Osiris made a beeline for an outcropping of rocks close to the edge of the pit. Upon closer inspection, Asher could see that the sands shifted as they poured into another opening. “This should give us… safer passage.”

“Why not use the gravitational elevator in the center of the structure?” The scribe questioned, eyeing the slippery sand covered slabs of rock Osiris started easing down.

“It's calibrated for larger entities. I attempted to use it my first time discovering this place. I did not survive the landing.” Osiris explained. “While I may be able to simply revive myself without consequence, you however, cannot.” 

“That’s… fair.” Asher agreed, slipping down behind Osiris. With a late thought, he equipped his casque, protecting his face from the bombardment of sand. Osiris followed suit, his golden headdress glistening in the remaining simulated light of the Infinite Forest’s sky. 

They continued through the cracks in the rock, the pathway opening up into the main chamber of the well, and onto the glass jettisons that would act as a stairwell for the warlocks. Slowly, and steadily, they began the journey downwards. 

Asher found he could use his light, however sparingly, to stick his boots to solid ground electromagnetically. The static made sand cling to his legs, but he no longer slipped on the glass platforms.

Osiris lead them down, using his own light to push the sand away as he walked. It wouldn't always work, but he’d take the advantage. The further they descended, the darker and colder it became. Vex lights flickered on the walls, aside from Sagira's flashlight mode, they were the only thing guiding them through safely. The sound of sandy rain and their footsteps barely echoed through the well like one would assume. It was quiet, eerily so, a white noise of anticipation the close they approached their destination. 

As they came to the bottom, mounds of sand greeted them. The only entrance to be found was the peak of a triangular doorway hidden by the endlessly piling grains. They two warlocks trudged through the dirt, finding the entrance barely big enough for them to squeeze through. Asher went first digging out the hole with the heels of his boots as he went to ensure Osiris’ bulkier form could fit through better.

Now inside, they leapt across a few platforms in a large pitch black room, to another doorway that lead out into a brightly lit area, causing them to squint and shield their eyes at the sudden shift of lighting. Once they adjusted, they found the room to be a large spire continuing downwards. It was vast, sporting a large gaping hole down the center, revieling many wide open levels full of clear walls, much like a library with shelves. 

“This is the Well of Sand.” Asher stated as he peered down over the edge, the flights seemed endless, going on farther than even he could see. Osiris nodded beside him, also taking in the view. The last time he visited, he had come face to face with Voxvosis.

“We should probably split up, this place is huge.” Noted the ghost, whirring as she scanned her surroundings. “Osiris, why don't you head for the bottom and see if there’s a main terminal for me to hook up to, while Asher and I go through these archives.”

“Are you sure? You haven't wanted to separate since…” 

“I’m healthily stretching my figurative legs, I’ll be fine!” Sagira nodded before enthusiastically beginning to scan each archival node around the floor. Osiris and Asher shared a look before the warlock hummed in thought and approached the edge again. 

“I’ll make my way down then. Be careful.” He warned before jumping down the pit and beginning a controlled descent. 

Asher watched Sagira flit around for a moment before beginning to search himself. She could clear these floors a lot faster than he could, especially as he accessed each terminal by hand, reading through every scripture. He wondered for a moment if he should even bother.

They had been progressing rather quickly, but finding nothing pertaining to their interests. It was 5 floors down that Sagira’s search slowed, like she was distracted by something. The Ghost seemed to steal glances at the Awoken warlock, confirming Asher's suspicions when she addressed him. 

“Hey, so, sorry about cutting our conversation short earlier.” Sagira apologized out of the blue, stumping the scribe for a moment before he recalled the moment the two shared. 

“I’m not upset, if that’s why you're apologizing. You're not my ghost, you’re caring for Osiris. It’s nothing, I assure you.” Asher added, if a bit strained. He was upset, but not at Sagira, at himself for not being able to control his own damn feelings and keep his mouth shut.

“Yeah you are, I can tell.” The ghost scoffed. “And I may not be your ghost, but that doesn't mean I’m not my own being who can make my own decisions about who I spend my time with, and how I feel about them.” she continued, pausing her search.

“I care about you Asher. I feel bad about what you're going through, and I care about your thoughts on the matter. I’m honored that you think of me as someone who was close, and that you'd share your feelings with me.” Her voice was soft and genuine, and it hit Asher with full force. His heart ached as he fought back tears. He was so much more emotional these days…

“And look, I may be Osiris’ Ghost, but that doesn't mean I can't be your friend.” That was the tipping point that had Asher balling his fists, his fingers digging into the terminal he currently occupied. 

“Please don't. Don't be my friend, Sagira. Those who would call me their friend have all been torn apart.” He looked up at her with a feint wet to his eyes. “I don't want to care about someone just to lose them again and again.” 

Sagira sank in the air at the confession, her spikes drooping and electronic eye wavering. She didn't expect such a powerfully deep aspect of Asher to come forth like that and it fully dawned on her how much the Awoken had shared with his ghost. Guardians and Ghosts didn't always get along, some were constantly at a wits end with one another, but others could share bonds so strong that it seemed not even the darkness itself could tear them apart. 

“Sagira!” The rushed and fear filled voice of Osiris blared through the Ghost’s thoughts, tearing her focus away from Asher. 

“Osiris?! What’s going on?” The scribe spooked beside her at the sudden mood swing, he shook off his own problems and dried his eyes, ready for whatever was about to happen.

“The Auspicious Mind is still here, my reflection's Intel was wrong. We need to evacuate immediately!” the Warlock called out loud this time, leaping over the ledge of the well and sliding across the sandy stone to where Asher and Sagira stood alert. The ground shook as a deep chorus sounded from down below. Slowly the lights began to dim into a piercing red. 

“Quickly! Hide, it’s coming!” Osiris whispered harshly, pursuading the three to begin a swift ascent. The trio had tripped up the stairs and nearly slid through to safety, only for the ancient door to slam in their faces. Asher was frozen stock still, staring at their only chance for escape now lost. He made to speak, but a horrifically loud alarm sounded from behind him subdued his movement. A red light bathed him as he slowly turned to face that which had Osiris fleeing.

The ornate and massive chassis of a Harpy flared in the center of the well, studying him intently. Asher was stricken by fear, knowing there was little chance to avoid being hit by an attack in his position. They were locked in each other’s sights for a good minute before the Mind seemed to lower it’s defenses. Asher felt in the back of his mind, a question.

“What do you seek here?” 

“To continue Brakion’s research.” The answer spilled from his lips in a language he didn't know he could speak, only understand. He frowned and glanced back at Sagira and Osiris pressed behind a terminal, out of sight. 

“Access granted.” The voice spoke, leaving a directive where those words should've been. “An intruder was spotted. Practice extreme caution. The being is classified as a Light Bearer.” Were it's final words before it slowly descended down, back into the pit it came from to continue sweeping for Osiris.

Once it was gone Asher nearly collapsed from relief, but he found his legs begin to carry him onwards, down further. Osiris and Sagira trailed along behind him.

“Asher?”

“It… it told me where to find the data we need. I’m not in control of myself right now.” The scribe felt his voice tremble. He was moving not of his own volition, but of the command implanted in his mind. “It saw me as just another Vex, I think. It knew it could connect with me like any other. I felt it, in my mind.”

“That’s terrifying. Just saying. What else could it have implanted?” Sagira fussed, doing a quick scan of Asher’s vitals and neurals.

“I don't believe it’s done anything more than that. One can… only hope. For the Traveler’s sake I loathe that saying!” The Vexed warlock bemoaned, still traveling downwards without his volition. Sagira and Osiris we're on his heels, afraid of the mind returning.

“I’m having trouble understanding how my reflection failed to locate the Auspicious Mind!” The dawnblade huffed behind Asher, frustrated at the miscalculation. “How did I miss that it was still here?” 

“Don't beat yourself up about it too much.” Sagira commented. “Accidents happen.”

“I don't make accidents.”

“Dendron the Second begs to differ.” She teased, earning a flat glare from her guardian.   
The well rumbled once again as Voxvosis rose once again, continuing it’s scan for intruders. Osiris was about to dive behind a terminal when Asher took hold of him and pressed close against the terminal as if he were accessing it’s databanks. The scribe eclipsed the older warlock, completely shrouding him from view as Voxvosis made it’s way upwards. They stood there in silence, Asher typing away at the access pad, until the mind took it’s search back down the well. 

“Asher…” Osiris questioned, abashed at the closeness of the awoken. “The mind had passed, you may let me go.” Asher’s eye twitched and brows furrowed at the request, an annoyed sigh leaving him.

“This is the terminal I was supposed to access.” He informed, backing up to let Osiris take a gander at the files himself. The human found himself missing the contact, and found it rather odd that he did so. 

While reading the files, Sagira thankfully occupied with doing so as well, possibly doing her own search in related projects, Osiris found himself leaning back until his shoulders met Asher’s chest. Immediately he felt… a few things. Comforted being the major expression, but warm, and embarrassed as well. He frowned, knowing exactly what that meant, and a panic bubbled in his gut. 

“So Brakeon was researching and attempting to weaponize genetic conversion.” Sagira summed the study. “What’s missing unfortunately, are the designs themselves. These are detailed logs… but they don't give any information on how the process actually worked.” 

“It’s possible even Brakeon didn't want the Vex to hold this information either, and kept it for himself.” Pondered Osiris, attempting to fold his arms behind him by habit and instead bumping Asher. The taller warlock hummed in thought, the bump not even registering to him as important. Osiris felt relieved. 

Asher was quiet, eyes locked into the screen in front of them. Osiris knew what was running through the stormcaller’s head, and he sympathized. They were going to have to simulate Brakeon, and defeat him, in order to get the information they needed. Sagira finished her deep relation scan and came away with an annoyed beep.

“I found one or two similar studies, but nothing as extensive as the Genesis Mind’s. We might not have to face Brakeon to get the information though.” Sagira rotated to face Asher, her eye flickering excitedly.

“I have an idea…”

^V^V^

Voxvosis never found Osiris and Sagira, and terminated the Well’s lockdown protocols. The flights drained of unsettling red light and the entrance reopened. Once outside the main door, Osiris pulled out her cubic keys and opened a portal for the trio to escape through. It returned them to Osiris’ library, where the man found himself leaning against his own infinite forge, pondering on what kind of weaponry they would need.

“What’s your plan Sagira?” Osiris asked, looking up at his Ghost who was distracted by an abnormally quiet Asher. “We should run a few simulations to find victorious outcomes before we start.” 

Sagira floated over to him slowly, points rustling in thought. “Asher was able to connect with Voxvosis, the Vex Mind immediately assessing that he was also a Vex.” Sagira started, peering back at the scribe who’s eyes focused on nothing at all, arms crossed, and trapped in his own thoughts. “I think… he should be able to converse with Brakeon, and learn the process straight from him.”

“That’s not a guarantee, Sagira.” Osiris warned, “That’s a risky situation to put Asher in, when we don't know for sure he would be seen as an ally Brakeon could share his information with. Not to mention the emotional toll it would carry.” He spoke quietly, even though Asher appeared to not be listening.

“Aw, you're worried!” The Ghost teased, before sighing and floating closer. “You're right though. We’ll need to test this in an environment we can control first.” 

“I know of a few simulations we can use to start off with. We’re looking for a one hundred percent success rate. We can't afford anything less.” 

^V^V^

The first simulation was a recreation of one of Nessus’ resident ancient minds, Protheon. With a few new additions to their arsenal, the trio was ready for the fight. Unlike the Nessus that Asher was familiar with, thanks to the Exodus Black’s Failsafe A.I. sharing her feed on occasion, this Nessus was undisturbed by the Red Legion’s massive drills. It looked as it had formerly, lush with synth-organic vegetation and crawling with Vex. Vex that seemed… relaxed, somehow. They appeared to be completely unarmed, and were bypassed easily by staying out of sight. 

Protheon’s temple wasn’t heavily guarded, letting them slip right on through the front door. It was deep into the chamber, where a massive statue of the mind was erected, that they happened upon some security. Shielded Harpies hovered about, flitting back and forth, chirping in relay. Asher stepped forth to take them out of the picture, using a pulse rifle he had received from the forge. The arc charge set off their shields and left them wide open for Osiris to take them out with a hand cannon he had acquired. 

With the security gone, Asher pulled out his rifle to scout out the chamber below. A large and barren circular platform covered with columns blocked his view into the true chamber. After relaying that information and discussing their next course of action they descended to the platform, using their light to gently lower themselves. Asher’s light gave out much faster than Osiris, causing the scribe to land hard with a shout. 

Sagira giggled beside him as Osiris refrained from rushing to help, remembering the last time he tried. “Are you alright?” he asked the scribe who continued to lie on the ground, grumbling to himself.

“Yes. Yes, I'm fine.” Asher called over, sitting up with a wince. The Awoken stood, rubbing his backside as he wandered over to join Osiris in peering into Protheon’s temple. 

“There, Protheon should be below. I’ll need you to approach alone if this is to work. Should things go south, we’ll intervene.” 

“No.” 

“No?” Osiris looked up at Asher in confusion, only to find the awoken paler than usual. There was an obvious quake to his shoulders, tension in his jaw. 

“I can't. I won't.” Asher’s eyes met Osiris’ own, and in them the warlock could see pure fear. “I- it’s. The lake. It looks exactly like the lake.” After being unable to move his flesh arm went to clutch his shoulder as he backed away from the edge. 

“Asher this is not Brakeon’s lair. We're not in the Pyramidion, and the Vex have no control here.” Tried the dawnblade, reaching out to sooth the stressed scribe.

“I know that! I fucking know that!” He bit back, his voice strained. “I’m well aware of this situation but that does not stop me from-” 

“From reliving the torture you were subject to.”

“Yes!” Asher inhaled shakily, collapsing on the base of a pillar. “Yes.” He whispered again. “I can't- my mind is screaming at me that, should I go down there, I’ll be at his mercy again. That I’ll lose them all again…”

“So, we chose the one simulation that looked too similar to the Pyramidion. Told you, we should just gone with Dendron.” 

“Sagira, this is not the time.” Osiris warned, crouching beside Asher. 

“Mir, look at me.” He asked of the scribe, placing a hand on his knee and soothing with his light. Cyan eyes flicked up at him, still holding back a floodgate of emotions. 

“You need to take control of the situation. This is your mind, your simulation. You can't let what they did to you stop you.” 

“Like hell I would let it control me! I am well aware of the bullshitery my brain is currently supplying me with.” He hid his face in his hands, “Knowing still doesn't make the fear go away…”

“The mind is a complicated thing, and trauma isn't so easily conquered like one who hasn't faced it would think it is.” Asher explained. “You may know pain, but it is not the same pain I faced back there, the same fear and anguish to see my fireteam torn apart, to have Brakeon tear my arm from my body and force me under that lake.”

Osiris took a deep breath before moving, his feather shawl rustling quietly as he wrapped his arms around Asher’s shoulders and held him. At first the Awoken went stiff, staring awkwardly over Osiris’ shoulder, but he softened. His flesh arm curled around the Human’s waist, welcoming the gesture. 

“You can touch me with your Vex arm you know…” Osiris mumbled, pulling away to give Asher a playful smile. “You're not going to hurt me by simply touching me with it.”

“I… I know. It's just habit by now. No one wants to be touched by a Vex.”

“I had an Exo lover for two hundred years Asher… I’m not afraid of a Vex arm.” Asher raised a brow, his eyes meeting a chaotic mirth in Osiris’.

 

^V^V^V^


	4. The One Where They Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sagira being Sagira never gets old tbh.

It started with Osiris cupping the Awoken’s face, his calloused fingers gliding across the pale blue skin. His thumb brushed against his darkened lips, causing Asher to open them slightly. The Human made his move, pulling the taller warlock down and gently placing his lips against Asher’s. The scribe’s eyes fluttered close, and he inhaled sharply, his flesh hand moving to press against Osiris’ chest. The elder warlock deepened their kiss, their lips melding together, chasing. Asher tasted like a thunderstorm smells and Osiris savored it. His light flickered inside, burning with a need he hadn’t felt in hundreds of years. He was sure Asher could feel the flames licking his lips, embracing him, for the Awoken shuddered and inched closer, a moan pulled from his busy mouth. 

Osiris hummed, hungrily pushing Asher against an inset bookcase, gripping his hips and lifting the warlock up, causing a few tomes to tumble to the ground. Asher gasped, not expecting the sudden act, but easily enjoying the roughness. He wrapped his arm around the dawnblade’s neck, kissing him deeper, his teeth grazing the other’s lip. Osiris needed more, slipping his tongue past Asher’s blue lips. He couldn’t help but buck against the other, absolutely craving the intimacy now that he had a taste. Asher whimpered, his back arching and his thighs tightening around Osiris’ waist.

“Osiris!” Asher called out, head tilting back and voice heavy, as one of the Warlock’s hands wandered to press at Asher’s crotch. Osiris let his lips trail down the storm caller’s jaw, and paused in surprise when he found Asher to be quite smooth down below, soft and damp. It wasn’t what he wasn’t expecting, but absolutely wasn’t a problem. Instead of undoing the Awoken’s trousers to stroke him, he undid them to give himself more room to curl his fingers through wet heat, making Asher tremble and chase his touch.

“Hnm, Asher… may I?” Osiris felt silly for asking when they were already so entwined with one another, but he couldn’t comfortably continue without Asher’s consent, he wouldn’t let himself. The scribe simply huffed, faux annoyance, as he leaned closer to Osiris’ ear.

“You damnwell better at this point. Please, feel free to continue.” he whispered sultrily. Osiris groaned appreciatively before carrying Asher to the daybed and setting him down. He worked each of the scribe’s boots off before whisking his raggedy pants away. Asher undid the fasteners on his coat, barely shrugging it off. Osiris pulled off his headdress, tossing it aside before pulling off his gloves and slipping his robes over his head. As soon as the bulk of his clothes were out of the way, Osiris dived in to smooth his hands up Asher’s shimmering thighs, leaving kisses along the softer inner skin. The Awoken clutched the sheets, his legs quaking in anticipation. He moaned in satisfaction as Osiris’ lips finally found their way to his own, his tongue dipping into Asher’s dark folds down below. 

“Oh!” The scribe arched and breath caught as Osiris sucked his clit. His tongue attacked while his lips smoothed, burying himself deeper. His callused hands wandered up Asher’s torso, exploring the skin, fingertips gently dancing around the Vex corruption, careful not to press too hard. Asher found himself breathless, hands twitching to grasp at anything. He forced his Vexed arm to grasp the sheets while he allowed his good hand to press at the warlock’s head.

Osiris’s honey eyes fluttered open, blown and full of lust as he gazed up at Asher. The scribe whimpered, forcing himself to look away. The coil in his belly tightened harsher, and he couldn't hold back a short loud shout when Osiris’ tongue slipped inside before pulling back out and flattening as he licked back up to Asher’s clit. 

Asher was becoming impatient with the warlock’s teasing, pushing his bald head harder into his crotch. Osiris smiled to himself, taking a deep breath before really eating the awoken out. He kissed and sucked harder and faster, destroying the squirming man underneath him. His lips dragged over Asher’s clit, teeth barely grazing and it tipped the scribe over the edge with a cry.

His blue body arched, fingers digging into the mattress, jaw left agape nearly soundless. Gasping, Asher shook through his orgasm, eyes fluttering shut in total euphoria. The older warlock rose from his spot, crawling over Asher’s damp torso, leaving kisses behind. Gently he pressed his lips into the seams where metal and flesh met, the texture odd but addicting. 

Once face to face again, Osiris pressed their lips together, the two were starving for more. Asher let his hips get dragged towards Osiris’ own, whimpering at the hot mass as it pressed against him. He was soaking wet down below, both from his own secretions and Osiris’ mouth. The human’s cock glided easily against Asher’s folds, searching lazily for entry. Osiris was in no rush to press inside, but Asher was having enough of his nonsense. The scribe dug his heels into the backs of the dawnblade’s thighs, spurring him to get on with it already.

Osiris obliged, positioning himself and easily sliding into Asher’s loose and slick cunt. The Awoken moaned in satisfaction at being slowly filled by Osiris’ thick cock. It wasn't long, but what it lacked in length it made up for in girth. The warlock himself, shivered in pleasure. It had been far too long since he had company of this sort. He wasn't normally interested, it was just a casual affair for once in a blue moon, but here and now he needed Asher. He needed this intimacy, this bond. 

After a moment to breath again, Osiris began to move, setting an even but powerful pace. He had Asher squirming beneath him, hands scrambling for purchase, panting short moans and curses. This wasn't a regular occurrence for the scribe either, forcing himself not to dwell on the last caper he had in fear that it would kill his mood. He loved Osiris, and it was hard to admit it to himself. He loved each soft touch, each kiss, each groan and gasp. The pleasure Osiris gave while worshiping his body was sublime, how he could fall in love with someone who felt so broken…

“Osiris- ah!” the name spilled from Asher’s lips like a prayer, over and over again. His nails digging into the warlock’s tanned back. 

“Asher…” splayed under him, Asher looked absolutely delectable, his Vex arm strewn across his face as if in shame. The coppery shell had never looked so beautiful than it was imposed against the stormcaller's smoke blue skin. On impulse, he took the mechanical wrist and lovingly pulled it away, his thumb sliding along the dark cords. Asher gazed at him in confusion for a moment, before Osiris left a kiss on his palm, and then his wrist, continuing upwards. The scientist’s breath stuttered, telling Osiris that he felt every kiss he left his infected arm. He stopped his kisses as he reached the seam between flesh and metal, careful not to cause any discomfort.

At the cease of the motion, Asher whined, making the warlock break into a smile before continuing his kisses elsewhere. A pleased sigh escaped blue lips and Osiris felt joy blossom in his chest. He continued by sucking dark hickies into Asher’s neck, biting the flesh until they shimmered with the Vex fluid that ran through his veins. The lights of the cosmos danced beneath Asher's skin as he cried out passionately. Osiris felt the man clench around him, becoming even slicker and tighter as Asher orgasmed. 

A shuddered gasp in his ear sent Osiris over the edge, his thrusts stuttering as he spilled inside Asher. Their light mingled as they spent a moment in post orgasmic bliss, their sweaty bodies cooling, sticking to one another. It was uncomfortable, but neither of them gave a shit. There was no complaint for the heat between their bodies, for Osiris’ crushing slack weight on top of Asher. The two were too drowsy and busy lazily kissing to even care. 

Eventually Osiris moved, lifting himself with shaking arms still full of adrenaline, and pulling out to let Asher relax his spread legs. There wasn't much to do after that than scramble for one of the bed’s sheets and splay it over the two before flopping down and falling asleep the moment Osiris’ head hit the pillows. Asher stayed awake for a moment longer, curling into Osiris with a lazy smile, before letting sleep take him as well. 

^V^V^

Osiris woke slowly, smiling at the warmth of the body slotted next to him. It was a comfortable unfamiliarity that brought back images of the events ending in this situation. Waking up next to someone he had just made love to was… refreshing. Carefully he sat up, a soft sigh of content escaping his lips as he stretched. 

“Morning sleepy head.” Sagira greeted. “Just wanna let you know that you two are really gross, m’k?” 

Osiris rolled his eyes at the pest of a Ghost and shoved her away. “Oh shut it.”

“Yeah no, gross. With a capital G. No, no all capitals. And italics. G R O S S.” She teased, giggling at her guardian’s tired attempts to swat at her.

“Shut up, Sagira, let a man enjoy having had sex for the first time in years.” Even though he acted annoyed, really he couldn't stop smiling. He did very much enjoy what he shared with Asher that night, the closeness, the security in another. He hadn't felt that in far too long. 

Beside him the sheets rustled, and the devil himself had risen, his hair flying every which way, and eyes still bogged with sleep. “Hm, did that actually occur or did I dream it?” he asked, his voice rough and lower than normal.

“Yes, it indeed happened my dear.” Osiris confirmed, soothing a hand down the Awoken’s bare back. 

“Good.” Asher mumbled, lying back down and burying himself under the covers. 

“We really shouldn't linger much longer, we have work to do.” The warlock next to him grinned, running his fingers through Asher’s mussed hair. “We’ll be wasting time.” He said even as he lay back down himself.

“It’s not a waste of time if it was how you wished to spend it.” Rebutted the man currently burying himself in his new lover’s chest. Sky blue arms wrapped around Osiris’ rich torso, holding him close. Osiris hummed in agreement before allowing himself to close his eyes and drowse back to sleep, content, with the scribe.


	5. Painful Isn't It!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you've noticed from now on it's clips that I couldn't find a way to attach to one another. Enjoy some very, very painful moments!

“Asher?” Sagira’s voice drew Osiris out of his thoughts. He turned, concerned at the wary tone his ghost had used to address the scribe. Asher was standing unusually tight and still. He stared unmoving, not reacting to any of Sagira’s calls. 

“Asher Mir, are you alright?” Osiris tried himself, approaching the Awoken with caution. As he rounded the scribe, what he met face to face, chilled his blood. Asher’s eyes were no longer the hypnotic cyan the Human was growing fond of, but an alarming red. Out of the corner of his downturned mouth dribbled a glowing white viscous substance. 

“Oh no, Asher, no!” Sagira wailed, zooming closer to attempt to scan the Vexed man and find a way to help. Osiris felt his heart stop at her carelessness, and he sprung forward just in time to snatch her away. Asher’s attention had snapped and he marched on the guardian and his ghost. 

“Sagira, stay away from him.” He chastised, bracing himself for a fight. Sagira shuddered beside him, still in shock from the sudden shift. Asher readied his rifle and opened fire on the warlock, his aim true even as Osiris rushed to evade. Nearly all of the Awoken’s shots hit their mark, but luckily none fatal for the moment. The Human cried out in pain, deciding in a split second to loop back around and tackle Asher to the ground, knocking the gun from his hand. It barely disoriented the scribe as he writhed on the ground, slamming his fists into Osiris and growling in frustration. 

Asher's voice shifted into sounds that should only come from a Vex or perhaps a ghost, crying out as he attempted to throw Osiris from him. The warlock stood fast, pinning the scribe’s arms and inching his thrashing form over on his front. Once that was done, Osiris held Asher’s arms behind his back, effectively holding the scribe hostage. With Asher now facedown, Osiris could see the glimmer of metal creeping up past the hem of Asher’s robes. The conversion had been advancing far faster than they had anticipated, or perhaps they had stupidly lost track of time. Either way, it pained Osiris more than his bullet wounds to see Asher like this, to think that this might be it, that it was too late.

“Asher please! I know your stubborn mind is in there fighting this! Come back!” Osiris chanted, continuing to restrain the struggling scientist.

“Come on Asher, please come back, please!” Joined Sagira as she frantically fed Osiris enough light to heal his wounds. The body under him let out a howl, convulsing harder before being restricted to shakes. The warlock watched intently, his own arms quivering from the adrenaline and strain. He wasn't man to pray, but in this moment he could only weakly ask whatever entities existed in their vast universe, that Asher was still in there and could make it through this. 

“Asher Mir, I’m begging you. Come back…” Osiris whispered, his throat tight. “Don't you dare give in. Please…” 

Underneath him, the scribe had stilled, the only tell that he was still alive was his lungs heaving. After an anxious minute of silence and painful breaths, Asher started to cough violently, groaning as he did. Osiris quickly dismounted his catch, letting the younger warlock move freely once again. Asher pushed himself up, his coughs turning into retches. Vex fluid splattered to the dusty ground, pouring from Asher’s pale lips, his stomach hurling up more fluid. 

Osiris just watched, more concerned for the scribe than disgusted. Eventually Asher made to slowly sit up, his shoulders shaking from shock, his eyes cyan once more and darkened by exhaustion. 

“Asher?” Tried the Human, reaching a hand out to brush the scribe’s shoulder. Asher jumped minorly before meeting Osiris’ touch, practically leaning into it.

“I’m so- sorry.” Asher stuttered, his voice hoarse and full of guilt.


	6. Inevitable Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think I was going to put this before the bone scene? But I left it later on because the moods were too far in between to make sense? Anyways, more painful stuff. This part is very unfinished.

“My time’s run out. I’m going to die-”

“We could still-”

“Shut up and listen!” Asher shouted, setting Osiris a stern look. “I’m past my limit. I am going to die, end of story.” He stated tersely.

“And if I don't make it far enough to see this through, then all I ask, is that you keep trying to find a way to reverse this. Don't you dare give up, if not for the people you could save, but for the prevention of the Vex even having the knowledge on how to convert a guardian to their own.”

“That’s not the incentive I need.”

“I don't care what incentive you need, but don't you dare leave this with my corpse!” Asher growled, Osiris sighed in response.

“The only reason I need is you.” Asher’s gaze flicked up to meet Osiris’ golden eyes. He stared for a moment, face betraying a befuddlement of emotions before he tore himself away.

“I need to rest.”

“Then rest… I’ll just…” Osiris couldn't finish his sentence, refusing to linger in Asher’s presence after his half assed admission. He fled to the chamber below the main room so he could be alone. That is, as alone as it gets with Sagira around. 

“Osiris? What was that?” She asked, fully knowing what it was but still needing the confirmation. 

“I…” he faltered, his chest blooming now with this horrible feeling he had been keeping under wraps. “I’m in love with him.” He practically wheezed out, sliding down a wall and hiding his face in his hands. “Oh by the heavens, I’m in love with him.”

“Ok drama queen…” Sagira burst forth to settle on his knees. “You're treating this like it’s a bad thing.”

“Need I remind you that the man I’ve gone and fallen in love with, is on his deathbed as we speak.” The warlock bit, narrowing his eyes at the bothersome orb.

“Yeah and? So you're just gonna let him slip away? Literally? For all we know the reversal process could work perfectly fine!”

“For all we know it couldn't.”

“Way to be negative about it. Osiris, you're in love. The last time you were in love was like… hundreds and hundreds of years ago!” She bobbed exaggeratedly. “You have nothing to lose, but everything to gain, from telling him that you love him.” 

“What I have to lose is him, whether I tell him or not.” Osiris wavered, swallowing his sorrow. It hurt, to realize he was in love with the scribe, and then realize how little a chance they had in success at saving him. 

“So, you're just going to let the forest take him, like it took Saint-14.” it was a low blow, but she was right. He could've done something to save Saint. He knew he was here, but his obsession with Panoptes and fear of his work being halted kept him away. His own selfish desired aided in the death of the man he loved.

“I- I don't want to just sit here and watch him die either, Sagira! But we've made hardly any tract in finding a cure, and he’s already given up. I can't save him when he doesn't even want to save himself anymore.” He understood now, where Takkāḷi had come from, when that pink fiend had brought Asher to him in the first place. It hurt to see the scribe give up after so much effort had been put into trying to save him. In the end, he accepted his fate. 

\--;

All he could hear was his heart slamming in his chest. He felt stupid, too old to be anxious about confessing one's feelings to another, but here he was, eyes locked on Asher’s back. His shoulder blades uneven, one jutting farther out that the other as the scribe reached to grab a book off a higher shelf with his longer Vex arm. 

The scribe hadn't noticed Osiris’ gaze yet, casually flipping through the old pages in peace as the warlock drank in every feature he had come to love. The white messy hair, slicked back in an attempt at neatness. The muscle beneath his tight turtleneck vest, a peek of blue at the bottom hem when he returned the book to it’s shelf. 

He froze when Asher turned around, looking surprised to find him there. Looking tired. He looked so, so tired. He thought Asher asked him something, but instead of answering the unheard question, he moved forwards. Aher’s brow furrowed, and Osiris’ golden eyes flicked to his drawn frown, his lips suddenly felt dry and he was filled with the desire to taste.


	7. I Won't Give Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And this is the end! Well, one of the potential endings that I remembered to write before fucking myself over and forgetting the other potential endings. This was the Best Bad End idea. I think the Good End idea was Asher becoming the Heart of the Infinite Forest... that's right! I never intended to cure him! But I also didn't want to let him go either... neither did Osiris, as you can see here.

Osiris shuddered, somehow there was a chill in the air around the stasis machine now, like the coming of a storm. It suited Asher… as he was suspended there in the Vex chamber, face loose and at peace like he would look in his sleep. 

The warlock didn't want to do this, didn't want to put his lover here like he was some bauble to forget about, but there was nothing they could do. He had to do this, lock Asher away and prevent the virus from consuming him entirely. He was safer here. Safe, until Osiris could find a viable solution. 

The Infinite Forest had never felt so cold… Osiris, never so lonely. Even with Sagira beside him, mourning in her own right, he felt so very alone, like he had lost everything. He knew logically this wasn't the case, Asher was alive and well, just…

Osiris felt his heart clench, and he gasped out a sob. His knees wobbled before sending him crashing to the ground. He heard Sagira beside him, but his woes were too great to bother recollecting himself. With a shuddering breath, Osiris wept, his face in his hand and Sagira burying herself in his scarf, close to his shoulder to comfort him. 

He couldn't help but feel like he’d just lost another lover to this accursed forest.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to section this into chapters for easier enjoyment. I've been practicing writing longer fics than one shot smut romps, which kinda tells you why writing such a long fic like this ended up incomplete... I'm doing my best. I'm just not very good at this dedicated writing thing lol.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you continue to read the rest!


End file.
